Faces by E.C. Blake

excellent,” she said. “Excellent, and very encouraging.” She looked away from Mara to the six volunteers. “They will need time to regain their strength. Let us leave them to it. Walk with me.”
    They went out from the chamber and back onto the battlements where Mara had stood earlier. “How did that feel?” the Lady asked.
    â€œIt’s hard to put into words,” Mara said. “But it was . . . good. No pain. And so much power . . .” She glanced at the Lady. “Would the amulet . . . could the amulet . . . also protect me from the . . . the ‘soulprints’ of those who die in my presence?”
Or those I kill?
she thought, but didn’t say out loud.
    The Lady smiled. “Yes,” she said. “The potion blocks the nightmares. Whiteblaze can take them away. And the amulet keeps them from happening at all. If you are alert, and direct the magic from the dying person into the black lodestone crystal, it will have no impact on you at all.”
    â€œBeyond the ordinary impact of a person’s death,” Mara said.
    The Lady inclined her head. “Of course. I am not suggesting it prevents any
emotional
impact. But there is a difference between that and endless nightmares of the dead returning.”
    Mara nodded. “Thank you again for this, then,” she said, touching the amulet. And then a new thought occurred to her. “These soulprints . . . the fact that magic is so intimately bound with a person’s thoughts and feelings . . . that’s how the Masks work, isn’t it? There’s a link between the Mask and the person’s mind, and the Watchers know how to read it.”
    â€œExactly,” the Lady said. “Which brings us to the subject of tomorrow’s lesson, since you passed today’s with such ease.” She smiled a little. “I’m going to show you how to make Masks—real Masks that will cling to and take the shape of their wearer’s face and not fall apart, but also Masks that tell the Watchers nothing. I will also teach you how to take an
existing
Mask and alter its magic so that it can no longer betray its wearer. If all goes as I hope when we move against Aygrima, you will not need that skill. But if things go awry . . . then you may. I have plans for more than one contingency.”
    â€œCatilla’s dream come true,” Mara said.
A Maskmaker at last. Daddy would be so proud . . .
    She blinked away sudden tears. Then she frowned. “If you know how to make Masks . . . could you also make Masks that do what the Autarch’s newest ones do: drain a little magic all the time, and feed it to you constantly?”
    The Lady’s smile vanished. “I could,” she said.
    â€œAnd Masks that put some of your magic into those who wear them, so that you can control their thoughts and actions?”
    â€œI could,” the Lady said. “But why would I? Those with sufficient command of the Gift can manipulate the magic that fills every living thing in endless ways . . .
without
Masks. I have that ability. I suspect you do, too.” Her smile returned. “But that is a concern for another day.” She looked down into the village. “No more lessons today. There is work in the village that requires my assistance. Every year when the ground thaws there are buildings that need repair. The villagers do most of the work themselves, of course, but in an emergency—if a building appears in imminent danger of collapse—I lend a touch of magic. Hamil has identified several structures he would like me to help with.”
    â€œCan I come with you?” Mara said.
    The Lady glanced at her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou just used your amulet for the first time to draw magic from humans,” the Lady said. “You